


Spark of a New Purpose

by DraconicBaguette



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Basically SI isn’t special because a bunch of earthians are reincarnated, Canon Timeline, Fire Nation (Avatar), Fire Nation Lore (Avatar), Firebending & Firebenders, Gen, Iroh (Avatar) loves Tea, Reincarnation, Secret Organizations, Self-Insert, Time Travel, Worldbuilding, and formed their own version of the white lotus, but like to preserve the timeline, second life, sun warriors dont like strangers, technically, technically OC because I obviously havent grown old and died yet, using fire to tell stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29251935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraconicBaguette/pseuds/DraconicBaguette
Summary: When we die, we are given a chance at living a second life in a fantastical world of our choosing. When a world is popular, these second-lifers eventually run into one another. Thus, a secret society all across the world is born, all with the goal of preserving the timeline. This is the story of just one such person, who for her entire childhood, wondered if she was the only one to remember a life before. She tries not to let the loneliness get to her, going through life and leaning as much as she wishes. However, one day she discovers she’s not as alone as she believed.Unfortunately, this brings with it a bunch of other issues.(One-shot exploring the SI trope but on a grander scale. Also trying for realism. No pairings!)
Relationships: It’s her brother, Original Female Character(s) & Original Child Character(s), Original Female Character(s) & Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Spark of a New Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you clicked on this story, thank you! 
> 
> I don’t usually write SI or OC stories and I know a lot of people tend to skip over them because of how quickly they can turn bad. I hope this isn’t one of them!
> 
> The purpose of this fic was to experiment with the idea of “what if the typical SI-reincarnation trope didn’t apply to just one or two people, but instead our whole society?”
> 
> Also, there’s like... 1 curse word which is a**, if you consider it a curse word. It’s almost exactly half-way through. Starts with “Ugh, idiot.”
> 
> Please enjoy!

The Fire Nation was a glorious nation. That’s what I was told in my second life. Had it not been my second life, I likely would have believed it. The mantra was repeated from everywhere. Schools, shops, libraries, restaurants, docks, homes... They all spoke of how the Fire Nation was spreading its wonderful and prosperous ways with the rest of the world.

But in my first life, I knew the truth. I knew the truth of this war, and, for better or for worse, I knew how it would end. But for the duration of my second childhood, I focused on the now rather than the to-be.

I was fortunate to be born into a high-mid class of a family, one with a mother and father and, nine years later, a little brother. There wasn’t much love in my second family, as Raseen and Yroko, my new father and mother respectively, were not married out of love. Rather, it was a union between two families to increase both their money and social status. I suppose that it was also due to this that they didn’t have much love for my brother or me either. I had realized early on that the familial love they gave was relatively normal in the Fire Nation, and perhaps even the rest of the world as well. However, I knew it wasn’t as warm as the familial love I experienced in my first life.

So, when my little brother was born, I showed him the same kind of love that I had grown up with. Sweet, annoying, stubborn, and mischievous Daizu. I often called him a “monkey” which, because regular monkeys weren’t at all common, he believed I was referring to a tiger-monkey. That only made him more confident. Truthfully, I suppose a tiger-monkey suited him better.  


In Fire Nation culture, tiger-monkeys were seen as mischievous and dangerous. They were a favorite in nursery rhymes, folk tales, theater, and the like. They were often compared to wildfires, which I suppose also suited Daizu, given that he was a firebender, like me.  


While neither of our parents were firebenders, the element was sill in the bloodline, so it was considered a gift of Agni when both my brother and I showed the ability to bend.

The first time I bent fire, well, it wasn’t as graceful or special as I would have liked. I legitimately just sneezed and blew out a tiny flame during dinner. It was so sudden and startling and when I look back on it, I feel both embarrassed and amused.   


My brother’s discovery was a bit more exciting, as he burned off one of the hoity-toity rich bastard’s beards. I was so proud.  


However, when it came to the Fire Nation, benders were typically sought after for soldiers. It was... scary. I had a deadline where I had to either find a job by my fourteenth birthday or be forcibly drafted into the war. This was, of course, a difficult choice for me to make. I was only given a six-month notice to this fact, yet while half my mind raged and whined about how unfair it was and that I was physically too young, the more logical half argued that this wasn’t my world anymore. The age of majority was much younger than I was used to and, like it or not, I would have to find a job that was approved by both my family and the government.  


Thanks to my family’s social standing, the date was extended a bit but... Call me a coward and pathetic and burying my head in the sand like an ostrich, but I just... wasn’t ready to face the war outside. Guilt gnawed at my stomach and chest like an aching hunger. There were people out there, families, children, all who were likely dying and suffering at the hands of the Fire Nation. Yet, there I was, sitting in the comfort of my home, doing nothing about it. I called myself selfish, then questioned if it was selfish to prioritize my family. I cried at simply imagining my family getting a message reporting of my demise on the battlefield.  


I felt stupid for crying by merely imagining a situation, but I didn’t stop.  


I eventually tried convincing myself that another reason why I didn’t want to become a soldier was that I could accidentally mess up the timeline. The endless possibilities of that, plus the remaining two months left for my decision, sort of jump-started something in my mind.  


Since there wasn’t any advanced technology, I couldn’t pull from my former life as an animator, however, I did eventually figure out the next best thing.  


I never knew how to properly paint in my previous life and I wasn’t a fan of writing stories with a brush, but after one festival outing with my family, I realized I could combine both of them with my inner fire and turn it into something more. I could be a firebending story-teller.  


The government approved the occupation and so I apprenticed under a firebending master who taught me how to use my fire for performing. He was, frankly, a jerk and was rather sexist, but Raseen and Yroko were funding these lessons, so I kept my mouth shut. Most of the time. I kept my frustrations to my brother, often venting them. Of course, at the time, he was five-going-on-six, so he was rather entertained when I came up with strange replacements for the unsavory curse-words I wished to shout instead. 

After two years—I was sixteen—I had finally graduated from his mentoring and was a certified performing story-teller.  


Something that wasn’t common knowledge about story-tellers, however, was that they were always watched by guards. My mentor, after it became apparent to him that I was committed to my goal, informed me that the only reason the art of story-telling wasn’t shunned by the Fire Lord was that it was a great source of propaganda.

That revelation opened my eyes to even more of the truth. Not everyone in the Fire Nation was a mere sheep. It should have been obvious, but I supposed that me assuming the world operated on cartoon magic had clouded my judgment.  


Regardless, some people knew of the time before the Hundred-Year-War, people who were aware of the corruption of the nation. 

My relationship with my mentor improved a bit after that talk, and he became a bit less sexist. Only a bit though.

He appeared at my first and second show as a professional performer, giving me a few pointers. But after that, he moved on to the next student and I continued with my story-telling.  


I loved showing and creating dramatics for audiences. I had always enjoyed reading stories out loud, so to do it as an occupation wasn’t so bad. Of course, I tried to ignore the watchful gazes of the guards, who listened in on many stories to make sure I wasn’t spreading any “traitorous” tales. I was paranoid and didn’t wish to be thrown in jail, so once a month I told stories that followed the propaganda, even though I hated every second of it.  


After a year of performing, I found myself becoming frustrated with my bending. I was proud of myself for being able to entertain people, but I wanted to do something more with my fire. I wanted to give it life, give it form. Be able to tell more of the story rather than just using my flames for special effects and lighting. So, after a month of planning, I set out to find the ruins of the Sun Warriors.   


Most of that month of planning, of course, went to figuring out the location of the ruins. My memories weren’t that helpful, as all that I could remember was that they were warriors, believed extinct, followed the mantra that “fire is life”, and praised the dragons. For a good while, I referred to them as “Dragon Warriors” since I couldn’t remember their actual name at first.

When I finally located the temple—and nearly lost my leg in one of the many traps leading there—I stared at the giant door and was at a loss of what to do. Despite wracking my brain for what felt like hours, I couldn’t remember how the characters got inside. So I camped outside the temple for the night, hoping that the Sun Warriors would reveal themselves to me like they did the main characters.

Of course, that didn’t happen. I rose with the sun—something both a curse and a blessing—only to find nothing in the camp was changed. The traps I had set off even remained as they were, which, I suppose I should have expected given that the civilization wished to remain unknown.  


I wanted to sleep, to pass the day quicker, but the sun practically nagged me to stay awake, so I spent an hour practicing my bending only to become bored again. I tried studying the pictures on the walls, only to become bored. I explored the ruins, only to become bored.  


Eventually, I was tempted to start yelling into the unknown like a crazy person to get some sort of reaction. I didn’t, though, because I didn’t want to make a bad impression. Then again, I was technically already trespassing...  


At one point, though, I sat down and thought back to what I knew.   


Zuko and Aang had gotten into the temple somehow. When inside, I remember them specifically following the dance moves of the statues and finding a golden egg, which was what attracted the attention of the Sun Warriors. Those same dance moves help them with the dragons, which resided at the top of some steep and pointy mountain. Those descriptors, however, didn’t help much given that all the mountains around me were steep and pointy. That meant that my best option was to get inside the temple, which brought me back to the main issue of how to get  _ inside _ said temple.  


I wasn’t getting anywhere with my thoughts, and at one point I must have dozed off. When I awoke, though, I soon discovered a strange red light beaming down on my leg. Looking up, I noticed that it came from the stone in the archway to the entrance. A clue maybe? It reminded me of a laser pointer used for cats, but given that it was hardly moving, I doubted I was supposed to chase it around. 

I stood up to look at the arch better, now wondering if its purpose went beyond simply adding to the grandeur of the place. My attention then shifted to where the red dot hit the floor. Perhaps there was something on the ground it would hit to activate the door? I looked around for a while, but none of the tiles stuck out as unusual to me. 

By now the spark of hope was beginning to flicker and die as I began to doubt whether I found something at all. I tried to shake such negative thoughts from my mind, but they remained regardless, like a distant echo. 

Because I was bored, I stuck my foot out under the red dot, not expecting anything. When it hit the metal of my ankle brace, though, I was briefly blinded. 

I cursed—a completely appropriate reaction, thank you very much. 

This did prompt me to look at the light again though. This time, I stuck my foot out with more purpose, making sure to angle the red dot away from my eyes. For a moment, I looked around, wondering where it was before I spot the red light flickering on some leaves of a tree behind the arch.   


Crouching down, I grabbed my metal anklet and manually adjusted the light, redirecting it right back at the red stone. 

Nothing.   


Well, now it was more of a cat-laser. 

I wasn’t dejected, though. It was a rewarding discovery that prompted me to give another look around the ruins. 

It was a couple of minutes later, when my eyes landed on the other red stone in the area, that I felt like slapping myself upside the head. 

“Ugh, idiot. It’s literally so obvious, it could have had a sign pointed at it,” I muttered to myself as the memory of the show’s scene came back to me. “Two teenagers could figure it out within minutes yet here I am, a grown-ass adult, taking two days. Incredible.”

It took only a moment more for me to finally— _finally_ —open the big door. 

Excited, I immediately went in and looked around. Truthfully, the show did not give this place justice. I felt like I was playing out an Indian Jones movie more than anything. 

Eager to learn, I followed the statues, dancing the same moves. Yet without a partner, I knew I couldn’t open up the place where the egg was. Not that I wanted to, as I didn’t want to risk activating that tar trap. So, I simply practiced the moves, over and over. My attention span wasn’t the best, so eventually, I started growing bored doing the same thing over and over again. I ended up adding a few... “extras” to the dance, trying to have more fun with it. The evening ultimately fell, so I stepped outside to where my tent was and set up a fire. Finally getting inside, however, inspired me. So I tried bending my fire into forms. I wanted to make it into a dragon, so I sat there for half-an-hour, maybe even an hour, trying to shape my fire. By the time I grew tired and decided to quit, I had only managed to combine my fire into one long-form that  _ could _ look serpentine... If one were to tilt their head, that was.

I had fallen asleep for only an hour, maybe more—it was hard to tell without a proper clock—when I awoke with a start. It was something that I always despised my body and mind for. When your dream is of sudden death and the next thing you know, your eyes are wide open and your heart is pounding a hundred times a minute.  


I decided to go outside to calm my beating heart, only to find a spear thrust into my face. I practically choked on my scream, which causes a minor coughing fit. During my coughing, though, I followed the spear to the person wielding it, which led me to the realization that I was surrounded by a large group of people.

In hindsight, I realized that my introduction to the Sun Warriors was likely a lot better than Aang and Zuko’s, given that I wasn’t looking like I tried to steal anything. They still accused me, of course, since I cheated the door into opening, but I was quick to correct them. 

Once I found my voice, of course.  


I eventually managed to explain to them that I wished to learn the original art of fire bending. I knew that fire was life, but I wanted to _understand_ that fire was life. They were still highly skeptical, so I told them about myself. How I was born to two non-benders, how I became a story-teller and wished to put life into my fire, and finally, how I wanted to teach my younger brother the true art of firebending.  


I supposed that they believed enough of my words to take me to their chieftain. When I met him, I retold my story.

It took much convincing, and some discussion with the previous chieftain, but by some stroke of luck, he decided to allow me to go through the test.  


There wasn’t much to say about the trip up the mountain. It was exhausting and all my focus was on my flame and not slipping on the rocks.

The reward at the top, however, was much more breathtaking. 

In my first life, I loved dragons and never stopped. I loved drawing them, imagining them, reading about them, watching them in movies, shows, or video games. Whenever there was a dragon-based character, they were automatically one of my favorites. I was biased, but I didn’t care. When I was really young, I had believed that maybe one day, the dragons who hid in secret, would find me worthy and reveal themselves to me. Of course, I grew older and let go of that fantasy, but I was always fond of it.

Yet at that moment, watching the red and blue dragons flying around me, I was filled with so many emotions. A smile grew on my face and I couldn’t stop the tears streaming down my face. They were so beautiful and everything I hoped they would be.

So I danced. I danced the dragon dance and it was one of the happiest moments of my life, both of them.

Their flames were what broke me. The show didn’t do the beauty of the fires justice. The warmth and multitudes of glowing colors which radiated... Words could not describe.

Then, all too quickly, it was over with and both dragons retreated into their dens. I hadn’t even realized I had fallen to my knees until a minute had passed. I walked down the stairs, my smile not leaving me for the rest of the day. 

I had truly understood.  


From then on, my shows gained more traction. I used my colored fire and created so many shapes with it. Dragons, people, ships, spirits, monsters, all sorts of things, and they loved it. Many asked me how I got my fire to do such things, but my only response would be that “Fire is Life”. I would have loved to say more, but with my newly garnered attention, I also gained more  _ guard _ attention. Saying things like “fire is life, not destruction” was very close to treason. 

My brother, however, was a different matter. I showed him what the dragons showed me and told him the truth of fire, without telling him of their existence. He took to it like a fish to water and I was so proud.

Of course, him still being an eight-year-old boy, showed off his new fire to all his friends. I was worried that the new ability would go to his head, so I struggled for a while on what to do. I didn’t want to humiliate him or put a dent in our relationship in any way, but I knew I had to come up with something. I had time, though. The most he could do was make his fire yellow instead of orange and he still yet had the proper grasp on what the meaning was, but I really wanted to share this gift with him. I made a plan to tell him the truth, but only when he was older and could understand the severity of the secret.

As my storytelling grew more popular, I had begun to retell stories from my first life. It started with smaller ones for the young children. Classic stories from my childhood like "The Tortoise and the Hare" or "The Boy Who Cried Wolf". As I grew more confident, so did my storytelling. Eventually, I moved on telling stories from movies that I watched, spending prior time to adjust them to this world accordingly. Stories like  _ Ratatouille _ and  _ The Lion King _ were among the easiest to adapt since they revolved more around animals and had little reliance on knowledge of technology.

Of course, many believed that the story about the young prince reclaiming his throne from the terrible king of an uncle was about some fantasy fire prince reclaiming his throne from the false King who took the throne without Agni’s blessing.

Whatever helped them sleep at night, I suppose.

These stories, however, what were gained me a... rather unexpected surprise. Three people, two men and one woman, asked if they could speak with me privately. I was skeptical at first, so I agree but maintained a distance from them.

That was when I learned that I wasn’t the only one.

During my stories, they realized that I was from Earth, just like them.  


It turned out that many people were experiencing a second life in this universe. They had built a whole secret society and it was full of people from all over our old homeworld. They all had some knowledge of the show, but until recent years, most were too early to experience the timeline, aside from those born a hundred years ago.  


Communication from across all nations, all preparing for the timeline. Together, people connected what they knew of the canon story, with all the little details they could remember.

They showed me the nearest headquarters and told me of all the other locations. The passcodes were often quotes from the show itself. This was done because they would seem completely bizarre to anyone who didn’t understand the references.

For the first time in my new life, I made close friends. People I could open up to and not have to create half-truths for. It was... freeing. Like a weight I had never known was on my shoulders was suddenly lifted.  


Most firebenders there also knew the way of the dragon, as it was passed down to them from people who learned it before the dragons disappeared. There were even two people who managed to figure out firebending with their minds. It was incredible and somewhat overwhelming. All these people had worked together for years, sharing information and teaching one another. 

The last bombshell dropped on me, however, was that everyone who came to this world would at one point interact with a character important to the timeline. One person was once the next-door neighbor to Kuzon, another was the head chef of Bumi’s family, all while a couple were on the docks to help the people who escaped Avatar Roku’s island, becoming good friends with Roku’s wife. Roku’s wife, who was the grandmother of Ursa and great-grandmother of Prince Zuko. 

There were more recent ones as well. A man who owned a tea shop which Prince Iroh and Piandao would frequent, or the one woman in the Northern Water Tribe who was the healer that delivered Princess Yue.  


They told me that it happens randomly in one’s life, and can even happen more than once. Some people were even more directly connected, like the one monk woman who discovered herself to be the mother of Aang.

Unfortunately, in the end, she tragically lost her life along with the other airbenders. Those of planet Earth hoped that the airbenders would be able to come back via someone reincarnating, but they were either hiding themselves away, or they didn’t exist in the first place.

I was nineteen when news of Prince Lu-Ten’s death, along with General Iroh’s retreat, flew through the islands like wildfire.

That day marked the beginning of what was to come. Approximately a year later, Prince Zuko would be banished and three years later, Aang the Avatar would return. Preparations and messages were being sent between those formerly of planet Earth.

It was a month after I turned twenty when I had  _ my _ character-encounter.  


General Iroh had come to watch one of my performances. As was protocol, I had publicly thanked him for gracing my performance with his presence, before asking him to interrupt if there was anything he would like changed. Instead, he waved his hand and merely watched my entire animation. I was nervous and somewhat panicking the entire time. I tried to make sure that it didn’t show in my firebending, but I didn’t know how successful I was.

At one point, I glanced over at a specific chair in the audience, relieved to find it empty. The reason I was relieved was that the person who sat in it, my friend Koroku, had left to go inform the nearest guildhall.

By the time my story-telling was finished for the night, more recognizable faces were in the audience, but before they could get to me, Prince Iroh requested an audience first.

I had thought that maybe I was in trouble for something. Treason was the most likely answer if that was the case.

But when General Iroh sent away the guards and poured us some tea—because duh, it's  _ Iroh _ —he asked me where I learned how to bend dragon fire.

I recall being so surprised that I paused... right until realization hit me like a cargo ship. He recognized my fire because  _of course he would_. He was the last person, that I had known of other than me, to have interacted with the Sun Warriors and the Dragon Masters. He was called the Dragon of the West for supposedly “killing” them. I was an idiot, but the new information calmed me a bit. So I had taken a sip of the tea and began vaguely.  


I informed him I was trained by two masters.

He asked me if the two masters were quite scary looking.

I said yes... then corrected that I found their followers more so.

He reminisced that he remembered them living somewhere far.

I told him that it was quite a historical trip.  


He told me of the beautiful view at sunset.

I agreed but argued that the fire was more of an experience.

He recalled that the masters were old and asked if they were well.

I reassured that they were practically floating on air.  


In the end, he seemed to have gotten the information he wanted and smiled. It was warm and kind, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

I thanked him for coming to my performance, but before he left, he asked for my name once again.  


“My name is Yiru, your Majesty.”

* * *

The next great event in the timeline was Zuko’s banishment. The greatest shocker, however, came in the form of an invitation from General Iroh to join the crew of the  _ Wani _ . Unfortunately, since the banishment was extremely sudden, I only had the day to decide, as the ship left the next morning. I ran from my house and to the nearest Planet Earth outpost.  


I told them the news and immediately a meeting was called. I was only a recent member, so I was forced to mainly stand to the side and watch, answering the few questions thrown my way. There were two decisions; I refuse the invitation/half-order to not risk messing up the timeline  _ or _ I join the trip to ensure that the timeline stays on course until the time that I’m discharged.

While a part of me was thankful to hear other people’s opinions on the matter, the other part of me wanted to be selfish and point out that it was  _ my  _ invitation and therefore  _my_ decision. 

But I shoved those protests down because, in the end, it shouldn’t matter what I want. What mattered was that there was no risk to the timeline that could screw things up for worse. Truthfully, there were both negatives and positives with both decisions, but the biggest negative about leaving... was that I would also be leaving my eleven-year-old brother behind for over three years. There was also a chance that I’d never return and end up abandoning him altogether.  


That thought was what scared me the most.

By late noon, that fear became a reality. It was decided that I would pack and prepare to embark with the two Princes, acting as a safety net for the timeline. every dock, I would receive a message with new updates, and in turn, I would give them detailed reports. I was always to wear a specific bracelet to be easily identified.  


Raseen and Yroko had mixed feelings about my acceptance of the invitation. They proclaimed that it was an honor that their daughter received a personal invitation from the Dragon of the West, all the while ignoring that the other royal was the newly banished prince.  


My brother took it the hardest. He was confused as to why I was leaving so suddenly before then throwing a tantrum and being angry for half an hour. I eventually got him to calm down, only for sobbing to be the next phase. So for the rest of the day, I spent time with him, playing with him, practicing firebending, going to his favorite places, and buying his favorite food...

By the end of the night, Daizu was exhausted. I stayed with him until he fell asleep and prepared to go pack my things before one of the servants informed me that there was someone at the door asking for me.  


Curious, I went to greet them, only to find that it was the familiar face of my good friend, Myn. She was another person experiencing her second life and was sometimes a musician during my performances.

I dismissed the servant and stepped outside with my friend. She told me that she was there both to give news and to say goodbye. I asked for the news first so that we could spend the rest of our time talking together.  


According to her, I would not be the only Earth-human going on the  _ Wani _ . The tea maker, whose shop Iroh once frequented, was also invited and had accepted the invitation. It was a relief that I would have at least someone to reminisce about older days with.  


The next hour or so, I spent with Myn. By the end, I promised to write letters as frequently as possible while she promised to watch over Daizu.

When morning arrived, many families and friends showed up to bid the crew goodbye. My brother hugged me tightly.

“Promise to come back?”  


I hated making promises I wasn’t sure I could keep but...

“For you, I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> This was a fun idea for me to try, so if you read through it, I appreciate you indulging my experimenting. Truthfully, there’s some smaller ideas which follow this story, but there’s not nearly enough to make any sort of sequel, much less a full series. Maybe in the future, but I make no promises.
> 
> Anyway, if you enjoyed, please at least consider leaving a comment. I’d love to hear what people thought.
> 
> Have a good day!


End file.
